


The Fan

by DonnaClaireHolmes



Category: Broadway - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8658250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonnaClaireHolmes/pseuds/DonnaClaireHolmes
Summary: I thought of this on the train ride home from seeing Hamilton because almost everything in this story is true.





	

She had been hoping to see your show for months. She memorized every line to all forty-some songs of your show. Every late night interview was watched, and re-watched, and then shown to slightly annoyed family members and friends. She wasn't a stalker, no, she was a fan. Someone whose life was changed by the music you wrote. 

It was a normal Friday afternoon for you. Twitter was flooded with fans asking what you had planned for the show you perform for the lottery in between Saturday's shows. She saw your tweet, and she made plans. Her parents knew how much this meant to her, and even though they didn't like the idea of her going on a train by herself and walking around the city alone, they let her. She was nineteen.

It was a cold weekend in January. She walked straight from Grand Central to your theater. It was havoc, simply because it was just after the doors were opened for the matinée showing. She stood at the edge of the crowd on the end of the sidewalk, trying not to get trampled by people. She wanted to take everything in, the color of the posters, your name on one of the walls under "Cast", anything she could before she had to inevitably leave. Several people were walking up and down the street trying to sell tickets for more than they sold online. It took all of her better judgement not to say yes to them. 

She made her way to a line on the side of the theater where people could buy any canceled tickets. Four hours and three new friends later, she was about fifteen feet in front of you, separated only by a metal street barricade. You did your little five minute show, and that was it. She had no idea if she would ever get to see you in person again. Neither her nor her three friends won the lottery that day. One friend had to leave after that, so the girl and two friends stood at the front of the cancelled ticket line.

No more than ten minutes later, an usher came out to the three and asked how many people were in our group. He smiled when they said three, because that's exactly how many tickets he had for the show that night. She cried. She really did. She held the small rectangle of paper tight in her hands and just stood there in the ticket booth. The one usher came up to her placed a hand on her shoulder, and asked if she was going to be alright. She said yes and grabbed a quick dinner with her friends and came back to the theater half an hour before the show started.

The line was wrapped around the theater and up a block. As she waited by the stage door, it creaked open and out popped one of the main actors in your show. She almost cried, she was so star-studded. She ended up tweeting at him apologizing for crying. He retweeted and replied, which made her cry again. 

Inside the theater, people were buzzing around with barely any room to move. She managed to make her way to the merchandise booth to buy a beanie, and to the bar to buy a cup with the show’s logo on it. She made her way to her seat with fifteen minutes to spare. You were probably finishing in hair and makeup, getting your microphone attached and your ponytail just right. People around her mentioned that she just got the ticket no less than an hour ago and congratulated her like she had just won a nobel prize. 

The show started, and you took the stage. Her heart stopped as you opened your mouth. This was a normal work day for you, and it was anything but normal for her. Two hours and forty five minutes of music, dance, laughter and heartbreak went buy and she left the theater in tears of joy. You returned to your dressing room, people congratulating you, stars meeting you backstage for pictures and autographs. You made your way around the block on your way home when you saw her, wearing her brand new beanie, getting rolled into an ambulance.

You bolt through the crowd like a concerned parent. The ambulance starts to pull away when you notice her phone is still there on the ground. You place the earbud near your ear and hear your musical. She didn’t want the show to stop. She was texting her mother that the show was everything she had hoped for and more, and that she was on her way to catch the next train home. 

A police car is still there, taking in eyewitness reports of what just happened. You hear bits and pieces of conversations and formulate what happened. The had the right of way and was in the crosswalk when a taxi didn’t notice the red light. You approach the police officer, hands shaking, and ask what hospital she’s being taken to. He tells you, but insists you give him the phone and go home. You disagree and ask for him to take you there. You want to see this through, and he lets you.

You get to the hospital and are escorted to the ICU, where she’s hooked up to several machines. A nurse comes in to begin her spiel about “immediate families only” when she realizes who you are. You tell her that the girl has no family around here. She nods, and backs out. You take a seat next to her, and text her mom for her, letting her know her daughter is in the hospital and that she’s not alone. 

You turn the soundtrack back on, putting one earbud in hers and one in yours, and you hold her hand. You don’t remember falling asleep but you remember waking up to her squeezing your hand. She’s pretty beat up, but smiling at you, and that’s all the reassurance you need. She starts to speak but can only get out one word, _“You’re…”_

You finish, _“A fan.”_


End file.
